


A Little Risk

by YouBlitheringIdiot



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 1930s England, Antisemitism, Aristocrat!Sirius, F/M, Gaslighting, Homophobia, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Italian James, Jewish Remus Lupin, M/M, Marauders AU, Murder Mystery AU, Period-Typical Racism, Violence, Wolfstar AU, detective!Remus, doctor!James, fascist Black family, jily, jily au, not for you if you like Snape, private investigator!Lily, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:22:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28478352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YouBlitheringIdiot/pseuds/YouBlitheringIdiot
Summary: Early the next morning, he awoke to the shrill sounds of his telephone.“Call for you, Sir, Chief Inspector Moody on the line from Police Headquarters.”“Sir?” his hoarse voice full of sleep.“Lupin, have some tea before I get there, or you’ll be in a foul mood. Duke of Grimmauld found murdered. Dagger sticking into his heart. I’ll be over in ten. I’m bringing Evans, from that Mulciber mess last year. Head Office is going barmy. Too many high-profile cases. Not enough men on the ground. Want me to focus on the recent spate of bank robberies. Bad publicity for the force. They’ve sanctioned her to join us. I'm putting you both on the case, best minds I know.”
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 115
Kudos: 109





	1. Blue Moon

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to write this for a while, and now that We Can Be Heroes is finished, I thought I'd switch from canon marauders to this murder mystery au. Set in 1930s England, because (sadly) anti-semitism, homophobia, right wing/fascist bullshit, racism and the likes are still very much with us, and I do love a good fascist-bashing fic...
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to ClaudiaWrites - belated Happy Birthday, love, I hope you enjoy it!

__

**_ Characters _ **

Remus Lupin – Detective Inspector

Alastor Moody – Chief Inspector, Derbyshire County Constabulary

Severus Snape – fellow detective

Orion & Walburga Black - the Duke & Duchess of Grimmauld

Sirius Black, Lord Grimmauld - eldest son of the Duke of Grimmauld

Regulus Black – youngest son of the Duke & Duchess of Grimmauld

Dr James Potter – childhood friend of Lord Grimmauld & classmate at Hogwarts College

Bellatrix Lestrange, Andromeda Black, and Narcissa Malfoy – daughters of Cygnus and Druella Black, the Duke & Duchess of Gaunt

Minerva Mc Gonagall – Governess

Lily Evans – Private Investigator

Peter Pettigrew – Classmate of Lord Grimmauld

Albus Dumbledore – Headmaster of Hogwarts College

***

_Blue Moon, you saw me standing alone_

_Without a dream in my heart_

_Without a love of my own_

_Blue Moon - Glen Gray / Benny Goodman (1935)_

“Where were you on the night of the twenty- nineth of September…. Sir Grimmauld, I mean…” Remus cleared his throat.

He could never remember how one was meant to address these Upper Class, titled idiots.

“Lord Grimmauld, but I prefer Sirius, Sirius Black.”

The man smiled, a tight smile that failed to reach his eyes. It was both sad and tense, Remus thought, although he was desperately trying to appear nonchalant. He watched the way the dark-haired man’s elegant hands played with the cigarette lighter. Nerves. He made a note of it.

“Pardon me, Lord Grimmauld,” Remus said, leaning back against the uncomfortable, small chair.

The chair creaked, and he cursed silently. If he broke the Duchess of Grimmauld’s antique lady’s writing chair, he was in so much trouble.

“The Duchess will eat you alive if you break that,” the man laughed.

A hollow, bitter sort of a sound.

He looked like one of the centuries-old Black family portraits he had seen lining the gallery downstairs - the long hair, effortlessly elegant, the timeless quality of his clothes, something ethereal, the pale column of his neck. Remus cleared his throat again. What the hell was wrong with him today? He needed caffeine and more sleep, and he needed to get his act together and stop feeling sorry for this pathetic (undoubtedly fascist) man who had never done an honest day’s work in all his life.

And what sort of a bloke called his mother the Duchess? Without thinking, Remus rolled his eyes. The other man didn’t seem to care, judging by the way his lips quirked upwards.

“Mind if I smoke, Lupin?”

Remus shook his head. He watched as the Duke’s eldest son lit his cigarette. He did a good job of hiding it, but Remus could see that his hands trembled. He made a note of it.

“Lord Grimmauld?” Remus asked.

The man sighed, relief or contentment, he couldn’t be sure, his eyes closing momentarily as he exhaled upwards. He loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top buttons of his white shirt, his neck arching backwards, the tall floor lamp behind him casting shadows on his high cheekbones and the cleft on his chin, on his Adam’s apple and the collarbones peeking out at the base of his neck. When he reopened them, he looked straight at Remus, his clear grey eyes piercing.

“Do you like dogs, Lupin?”

Trust him to end up on this godforsaken case.

***

The Duchess of Grimmauld had already screamed at him and threatened to have him fired.

_“You have ten minutes, Mister…” the Duchess had said, looking at her watch._

_“Your Grace, I think it will take me more than-” Remus said._

_“Ten minutes. If you run over your time, I shall have you dismissed.”_

_“Pardon?”_

_The duchess looked at him as though he had offended her._

_“Removed from your post. Sacked.”_

_She placed her hands on her lap and looked at him. He felt the sudden urge to scratch his neck._

_“Your Grace, do you have any idea who might want to harm your Butler?” he asked._

_“None.”_

_He really needed to scratch his stubble so badly._

_“I see. And could I ask you to tell me what you were doing yesterday evening, from five o’clock onwards?”_

_“I don’t understand the relevance of my whereabouts,” Walburga Black said._

_Her grey eyes were uncomfortably piercing, and cold. She managed to look strangely lifeless, like one of the portraits downstairs, the ones in need of restoration. And yet he could almost feel a power emanating from her, like a deadly rattlesnake waiting to pounce. She was extremely good-looking, almost unfeasibly so, and time had not yet dimmed her beauty. Her dark hair had but a few scattered greys, gathered in a classical chignon. She wore a bottle green velvet gown, like the kind of evening gowns that the young, fashionable, aristocratic ladies wore these days - bias-cut and tight fitting, with a fishtail skirt, and a yet it was early afternoon._

_“I must ask you, unfortunately, as we need to track everyone’s movements,” Remus tried once more._

_“I was here, at my desk, all day,” the tight reply._

_“All day?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“Doing what?”_

_“Answering letters.”_

_“Much correspondence?” Remus said._

_“Good day, Mister…”_

_The duchess of Grimmauld stood up and walked towards her antique writing desk, as though he had disappeared._

_“I need to ask you,” Remus said._

_“I will not be taking any more questions from you, do I make myself clear?”_

_Her voice had risen and the small veins near her left temple were now protruding. He was surprised at abrupt change in her manner._

_“Your Grace, I must insist that you at least tell me where you were last night between nine o’ clock and midnight,” Remus said, trying to stop the irritation from seeping into his voice._

_“How dare you insinuate I was not here! Are you accusing me of adultery?”_

_“Pardon?” Remus blinked at her in bewilderment._

_“Out! Get out! Now!”_

_She pressed the bell next to her desk and kept her hand over it. They could hear a persistent, high pitched tone coming from downstairs, and the sound of hurried footsteps coming towards them._

_“Your Grace, I did no such thing, I merely asked-” said Remus._

_“Get out, you insufferable man! Out!”_

_She was shouting now, and Remus stood up and watched her face contorting with rage. She looked exactly how he had imagined the evil Queen when he read Snow White as a small child. He had no idea what Moody would have done in his place._

***

The Duke had refused to answer any of his questions.

_“Your Grace, my condolences, you must be very upset at the death of your-“ began Remus._

_The Duke remained seated behind his vast writing desk._

_“No,” Orion Black said, bending his head and continuing to write._

_“I see, so Mr Kreacher was not someone you were very fond of,” Remus said._

_The Duke had not offered him a seat. He could have sat down anyway, but he decided to remain standing, on principal._

_Orion looked up briefly, his lip curling in a look of pure disdain, almost disgust. His grey eyes were very similar to his wife’s, more calculating, perhaps. Like his wife, he looked to be in his mid-fifties, well-preserved, although his hair was thinning slightly and lighter than his arched brows, still jet black. He raised one of them, marginally, and the superior, derisive look that tiny gesture conveyed was hard to describe._

_“Fond?”_

_“Er, yes,” Remus said._

_“I have no fondness for any of my men, it is not a word I would use to describe my feelings for my servants, Lupin.”_

_The Duke’s mouth hardly opened as he spoke, his accent sounding like someone doing a comedy sketch about the Upper Classes._

_“What way would you describe your feelings towards your staff, Your Grace?” Remus said calmly._

_The Duke sighed and looked up at him once more._

_“Feelings? I have no feelings towards my servants, Lupin. They are merely here to serve and do a good job of it. If they don’t, I let them go without references, and they never work again. If they do, I allow them the privilege of staying on.”_

_“And they stay, do they?” Remus couldn’t help asking._

_He was sure he would have legged it out of this house if he were forced to remain here for over a day. The Duke’s face changed, a minimal twitch of his eye, from looking frankly bored to offended._

_“If they’re lucky, yes.”_

_“Very inconvenient for you though, having to secure another butler,” Remus said._

_The Duke’s head moved ever so slightly. He noted the perfect cut of his suit, the exactness of his hair parting, the symmetry of his French cuffs, cufflinks bearing the Duke’s family crest. Remus got the feeling that everything about this man was ordered, shrewd, Machiavellian._

_“And such a crime, committed on your property, cannot go unpunished,” Remus added._

_No response._

_“Can you think of anyone who might wish you or your family harm?”_

_No response._

_“Your Grace,” Remus smiled politely. “Where were you last night, between nine and midnight?”_

_No response._

_“Mr. Black, oh sorry, Your Grace,” said Remus. “I need an answer from you.”_

_The Duke pursed his lips and returned to his letter._

_“I’m afraid I-” Remus said._

_“I have things to do, affairs I need to attend to. Good day, Lupin,” the Duke said._

_This was not someone who had ever followed orders._

_“Your Grace, this is a murder enquiry, I cannot simply-” said Remus._

_“I have no information for you,” Orion Black looked at his gold watch. “Please remove yourself. Go and talk to one of the skivvies, no doubt one of them was involved. This is not something that is of interest to the likes of my family.”_

_“The maids? Do you allow them access to rifles, or pistols?” Remus said, trying not to bristle on behalf of the staff._

_“If you are still in my line of sight after a minute, I shall have you forcefully removed from the premises and charged,” he said, continuing to write._

_“Charged with what?” Remus asked with interest._

_Orion Black seemed to consider this for a few seconds._

_“With anything I like,” he said._

***

The three Black sisters had left him with more questions than answers.

_“We were all here last night, Mr Lupin, in this boring old house, unfortunately. What would you like to know?”_

_Andromeda Black moved the silver cigarette holder away from him and exhaled towards the open French windows. Her sleek, chestnut hair was cut short in a bob, the type of haircut that would have been popular ten years ago in the 1920s. She wore wide, tweed trousers and a short sleeved, woollen top with pearl earrings. Her manner seemed warm and even, dare he say it, friendly._

_“Did you notice anything unusual, Lady Andromeda?”_

_“Oh, please, I hate that name, everyone calls me Andy,” she said smiling at him and making a funny face._

_Remus smiled back._

_“No, nothing unusual at all, Mister Policeman.”_

_It was Andromeda’s eldest sister, Bellatrix. She was standing beside the grand piano, looking rather dramatic. Her hair was also not particularly fashionable, long black waves braided and then gathered up in a huge, complicated updo, which looked like it must have taken some poor maid a long time to achieve. She was wearing a black silk, mid-length dress, simple but expensive looking, with puffed sleeves and shoulder pads, which accentuated her bust and her slender waist._

_“What do you mean by that, Lady Bellatrix?” he said._

_Bellatrix looked at her other sister and smiled thinly, before turning back to Remus._

_“I mean, we saw nothing suspicious, we were here, inside, together all day and all evening, before going straight to bed,” she said, raising her perfectly plucked, thin eyebrows at Remus, as though in challenge._

_He watched as Andromeda frowned momentarily before nodding in agreement._

_“You see, Mister Policeman, frightfully dull,” Bellatrix added, looking him up and down as though she considered it beneath her to speak with him._

_“Not even to go to the bathroom?” Remus said._

_“Don’t be absurd, Mister…” said the youngest sister, Narcissa._

_“Lupin, Remus Lupin,” Remus said._

_Bellatrix snorted with derisive laughter._

_“Bella, behave!” Andromeda said, shoving her sister unceremoniously with her hand._

_“Too funny,” Bella shrugged, as though Remus was no longer present._

_“Your parents had a sense of humour, I see,” Andromeda said, sending Remus an apologetic look._

_“An excellent one,” Remus smiled back._

_“We used the loo, a few times, no doubt, but otherwise our whereabouts were precisely as my sister stated,” Narcissa said._

_The youngest sister looked nervous; Remus decided. Her hands kept twitching and she played constantly with her wedding and engagement rings, the latter bearing a rather obscene sized diamond which dwarfed her small fingers. She had peroxide blonde-hair, styled in the latest waves, and she was wearing an exquisite, sky-blue taffeta gown covered in exotic blooms. Despite her heavy make-up, Remus could see her face looked rather pale._

_“Thank you, Lady Narcissa,” Remus said, wishing he could smack his forehead against the door for inspiration. “Can any of you think of a reason why anyone would want to kill Mr Kreacher?”_

_“Well, Mister Policeman, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if it was Andy’s ex-boyfriend,” Bellatrix smirked at her sister. “Only, he is a dirty Trot.”_

_“Pardon?” said Remus._

_“A communist little shit, Mister Policeman,” said Bellatrix, her smile widening. “Who’s to say that now his awful little heart is broken, he doesn’t decide to take it out on Andy’s family?”_

_“By murdering poor old Kreacher?” Andromeda laughed. “Give me a break!”_

_“His name is Ted, Ted Tonks,” said Bella making a face. “Dreadful name for a dreadful little man. You may wish to interview him.”_

_Remus saw Andromeda’s eyes darken momentarily._

_“Of course, talk to him, Mr. Lupin, I doubt he’s interested in harming a grumpy, old Butler,” she said, inhaling deeply from her cigarette._

_“You shouldn’t smoke,” Narcissa said, glaring at her sister. “It’s very unladylike.”_

_“Vulgar? Coarse? Heaven forbid, that dear Cissa’s sister should in any way humiliate her! Shock, horror,” Andromeda said. “That anyone dear to her should behave in…”_

_Narcissa pursed her lips and looked away._

_“Should behave in?” said Remus._

_“Nothing,” said Andromeda._

_“She’s right, you know, Andy,” said Bellatrix, coming to stand next to her youngest sister and patting her shoulder briefly. “The Führer hates seeing women engaging in that sort of behaviour.”_

_Remus stared at her. Bellatrix smiled back, a knowing smile, filled with malice._

_“That little shit, Hitler?” Andromeda said. “I seem to recall he doesn’t like women wearing makeup. Or working. Puts you in quite a pickle, Bella, let’s hope he never finds out!”_

_She plunged her cigarette into Bellatrix’s cocktail glass (an Old Fashioned) to extinguish it, and smiled at Remus with an impish grin. Her sister didn’t notice._

_“Where do you work, Lady Bellatrix?” Remus asked politely._

_“I do some voluntary work with the British Union of Fascists and National Socialists,” Bellatrix said._

_“Voluntary work?” Andromeda scoffed. “You’d swear it was a charity cake sale!”_

_“Mosley’s team do excellent work in promoting fascist ideals and I am more than eager to help spread their views,” Bellatrix said, glancing at Remus once more. “I suppose it is a charitable cause.”_

_Remus wasn’t sure if the feeling in his stomach was due to Bellatrix’s words or to the lack of food. Possibly both._

_“I think we’ve taken up quite enough of your time, Mister Policeman,” Bellatrix leered at him. “I think you should go and talk to our loveliest coz, Lord Grimmauld. He’s always been the black sheep of the family. No doubt he’s some way involved in this silly mess. When he was younger, he-“_

_“Shut up, Bella, Mr Lupin is singularly uninterested in Sirius’ teenage antics!” Andromeda said._

_“Is he the Duke’s eldest son?” Remus asked._

_Narcissa and Bellatrix tittered with laughter._

_“Yes, that’s why he’s referred to as Lord Grimmauld,” Andromeda explained, with a withering look at her sisters. “His younger brother, Lord Regulus, is currently away at Lemlair House in Scotland.”_

_“On a holiday?” Remus said._

_“Hunting’, shootin’, fishin,’” replied Andromeda with an eye roll._

_“Good thing he has an iron-clad alibi,” Bellatrix laughed lightly. “He’s a crack shot.”_

_“Oh?” said Remus._

_“Always was,” Andromeda said._

_“As is his brother, Lord Grimmauld, who unfortunately was here last night. Oops!” Bellatrix grinned at Andromeda, covering her mouth in mock concern._

_“I hardly think one needs to be a crack shot to shoot an old man in the back of the head,” Andromeda said._

_“How do you know for certain that Lord Regulus was not here, Lady Bellatrix?” Remus asked._

_“Ask him yourself. He telephoned last night, from Lemlair’s hunting lodge in the Highlands. He is one of ten guests. I presume that counts as a sufficient alibi?”_

_Remus nodded._

_Bellatrix raised her cocktail glass at him and took a deep gulp. Remus found it hard not to laugh as she spit out the mouthful in disgust, while Andromeda winked at him._

***

And now this damned, infernal, rich bastard, once more refusing to answer a simple question… who, if Remus Lupin was being honest, was too good-looking, making it impossible for him to be able to concentrate on anything else…

“For fuck’s sake, just answer the damned question, Black!” Remus said.

***

He had driven down to the Duke of Grimmauld’s stately home, Slytherin House, earlier that day, in the new, sleek, Lagonda sports car which Derbyshire County Constabulary had commissioned due to a fear of so called 'motor bandits' who used high-speed cars to escape from robberies. He was a good driver, despite his lack of experience, but he had driven slowly, Chief Inspector Moody’s warning of “Constant vigilance, Lupin!” ringing in his ears. The grounds were vast, imposing. Woodland stretched as far as the eye could see, sloping towards rich grassland, a golf course, an Italianate garden with a tall, intricate hedge maze. He drove past the stables, huge statues, a vast lake and a dizzying display of fountains. The house itself was impossibly grand - two massive wings on either side of a central, dome-covered block. Remus counted the number of windows and noted nine in each wing and four on each side of the front door.

Remus heaved an irritated sigh. He had heard a lot about the Black Family in the past few hours. None of it good. But their Head Butler, Kreacher, had been found dead, and he had been sent to investigate.

_“Won’t His Grace be expecting somebody more important than Lupin to deal with this case?” Severus Snape had asked Moody._

_“His Grace?” Remus scoffed, his normally hoarse voice rougher than usual._

_Moody looked over at him and grinned. It was a well-known fact that Remus Lupin had socialist leanings and detested the Royal Family. And Moody hated toffs._

_“Sir!” said Severus sharply._

_“Don’t be ridiculous, Snape,” Frank Longbottom said, yawning, as he handed Remus a mug of strong tea. “Quite the opposite. They will want to keep this dreadful, unfortunate inconvenience as quiet as possible.”_

_Snape gave Remus a filthy look._

_“Lupin is unfit to deal with the Duke and his family,” Snape said, turning back towards Moody. “Just because he brought in that serial murderer last year does not mean-“_

_“Thanks, Longbottom,” Remus said, purposely interrupting Snape and blowing over the top of his drink. “I badly needed this.”_

_Remus remained unaware of the fact that since his return to work, following his release from hospital, the other men in his team were concerned about him. He still looked very pale and gaunt, his cheekbones too prominent, his jackets hanging off his too-thin frame. The black shadows under his eyes unmissable. He told them he was fine. He was. Perhaps he struggled to sleep, and not to dream, but he was better off keeping busy, at work. He avoided looking in the mirror as much as possible, and having too much time to think._

_“Shut up, Lupin!” Snape hissed, looking furious._

_“I would appreciate you keeping your nose out of other people’s business, Detective Inspector Snape,” said Moody, sending the dark-haired man an irritated scowl as he hobbled towards the blackboard. “Or are you trying to tell me how to do my job?”_

_Snape’s jaw tightened. He was seething._

_“No, Sir,” he said._

_“Well, that makes for a pleasant change,” Moody glared, as he adjusted the eye patch over his right eye. “Just because you’re pathetically obsessed with the aristocracy doesn’t mean we don’t catch killers in their midst. If I put you on the case, you’d fawn over the Duke so badly, you’d probably wet yourself.”_

_Frank tried to cover up a snort of laughter by coughing into his drink. Remus bit the side of his lower lip. The rest of the officers grinned._

_“Right. Duke’s Butler found dead this morning. Near the stables. Bullet through the back of the head. No suspicious activity noted by anyone. And nothing appears to have been stolen.”_

_“Ah, well, that’s the most important thing,” said Remus drily. “Heaven forbid!”_

_“Sarcasm doesn’t suit you, Lupin,” said Snape, shooting him a filthy look._

_“I’ve been told it does,” replied Remus, leaning back in his chair and crossing his legs._

_Frank spluttered with laughter and spilled tea on himself._

_“Strangely, it does, Lupin,” Moody said, with a quick grin. “Just don’t overdo it.”_

_“Yes, Sir,” said Remus, hiding his own smile as he sipped his tea._

_“Longbottom is correct, the Duke will want to keep this affair out of the newspapers. Lupin, I trust you to investigate this fully, despite what the Duke and Duchess may instruct you to do,” Moody said. “Nasty family, the Blacks. One of the richest families in England. And very political. Made most of their fortune through the slave trade. Quite heavily involved in the British Union of Fascists, especially the Duke’s youngest son and his nieces. Some sort of scandal recently, relating to financial improprieties of the Duke’s nephew-in-law, a Mr. Lucius Malfoy. And much talk about one of the nieces in particular, Bellatrix Black. It appears she’s a huge fanatic of that Hitler fellow. There may well be more to this murder than meets the eye. Be careful, constant vigilance! I’ll fill you in on all the nitty-gritty later.”_

_“Yes, Sir,” said Remus._

_“I think they’ll be pleased that I assigned such a young man to the case, they’ll think you’re a Sergeant,” Moody said, standing up slowly and grabbing a hold of his walking stick. “I think you may be the first person in the Force to be promoted to the rank of Detective Inspector at your age.”_

_Remus felt his cheeks flush. It was common knowledge that Remus John Lupin was Moody’s favourite, for reasons that Remus couldn’t put his finger on. He remained unaware that Moody had described him as uncommonly bright, hard-working, relentless, stubborn and always got results. He was also exceptionally brave, and his colleagues, aside from Severus Snape, considered him a joy to work with. His sassy wit and kind manner were widely remarked on. Most of them had been aghast to learn what had happened to him last year. Aside from Severus Snape. He heard Snape mutter something under his breath._

_“Yes, Chief,” he said._

_“Right, off you go! I’ll join you tomorrow. Take the grey Lagonda, Lupin, might make you feel less intimidated by the posh surroundings, eh?” Moody added, wincing and stumbling as he turned._

_“I say, are you alright, Sir?” asked Frank, with a small frown, as the younger men all stood up._

_“Perfectly fine, Longbottom,” said Moody, sending him what Remus called his signature death-stare._

_Everybody knew that Moody still suffered hugely from the injuries he had sustained fighting in the Flanders Fields during the Great War, but he refused point blank to acknowledge this._

_“Sorry, Sir,” said Frank._

_“Well, what are you all standing around for?” Moody barked. “Get to work!”_

_He slammed the door shut behind him, and it was Remus’ turn to wince._

_“He’ll ruin the mechanism,” Frank chuckled, copying Remus’ tone of voice._

_“He will!” Remus shook his head. “Did the man not study Physics at school?”_

_“Who did? Swot!” said Frank, picking up his cap and straightening his uniform as he walked out._

_“Idiot!” Remus called out after him, smiling to himself as the rest of the crew filed out of the room._

_He turned to grab his long, threadbare overcoat._

_“You think you’re so terribly clever, don’t you?”_

_Remus wasn’t sure if he had heard Snape correctly, his voice a muttered sneer._

_“Sorry, I missed that, were you saying something to me?” he said to the other detective._

_Snape was standing directly in front of him now, his long fringe falling into his eyes. He didn’t reply._

_“By the way, I don’t think so, Snape,” said Remus, keeping his tone pleasant. “I know so.”_

_Snape’s dark eyes burned._

_“Things are going to change around here, soon,” Snape said in a quiet voice, moving towards the door._

_“How fascinating, I was unaware that you dabbled in the Occult,” Remus said._

_His gaze fell on a small, printed flyer which had fallen out of Snape’s coat pocket._

_“All out against fascism! London workers! Anti-fascists! Peace-lovers!_

_The London Communist Party calls to you.. answer Mosely’s provocation – join the great march…”*_

_“Switched sides, Severus?” Remus said, raising his brows._

_“Obviously not!” Snape said, trying to snatch the leaflet off him._

_Remus whipped his hand out of the way, keeping the piece of paper at arm’s length. He had heard rumours that the British Union of Fascists were organising a march to take place on Sunday 4th October 1936, in the heart of the East End of London, an area with a large Jewish population. And that local anti-fascist groups were planning on opposing it. Snape clearly had an interest in it. He knew Snape was a Mosely supporter, as well as being anti-semitic and xenophobic._

_“A march to incite hatred? That’d be right up your street, wouldn’t it?” Remus said, keeping his voice calm. “Will you be there, in your little black shirt?”_

_“You won’t be so smug if things work out as planned,” Snape whispered under his breath as he opened the door._

_Remus rolled his eyes. Snape was forever making snide comments, vaguely threatening, but he was well used to it._

_“I’m not sure what you’re trying to say,” Remus said, yawning loudly._

_“You’ll see,”_ _Snape said, just before he slammed the door shut in turn._

_“Fucking bastard,” he muttered under his breath._

_Snape had had it in for him since they were children. He had tried his best to ignore him back then, and he was still trying. There were times when he had wondered would he be better off leaving the Police, especially after the incident last year with Fenrir Greyback. He shuddered at the thought of it. If that hellish experience hadn’t succeeded in making him leave his job, there was no way he was going to let this greasy-haired bastard break him._

***

Lord Grimmauld looked back at him in silence. The pompous git obviously wasn’t used to people speaking their minds. And frankly he had been very rude to the man, which made him feel a bit guilty.

“Look, I’m sorry, I know you don’t…” Remus’ voice trailed off.

Black spots appeared in front of his eyes and felt suddenly light-headed. He reckoned he would get fed in the Duke’s house, but nobody had offered him anything to eat and the interviews had lasted so long he hadn’t found the time to head to the village pub. In fact, when he had politely inquired with the cook if he might be allowed some bread and cheese and a drink of water, or even just a cup of tea, he had been refused. They were grim - the cook, the groomsman, most of the staff he had met were either sour and contemptuous or else they looked scared stiff. The room was spinning. He brought his head down between his knees.

“Lupin, I say, are you alright, old chap?”

Sirius Black’s voice sounded genuinely concerned.

“I’m perfectly fine, I don’t need pity from the likes of you, Lord…” said Remus, lifting his head up sharply.

Somehow this man made him feel more self-conscious than ever about the scars across his face, and about his threadbare clothing. The last thing he wanted was for Sirius Black to feel sorry for him. Blackness overtook his vision, he could hear the man’s voice, as though from far away, before it faded, and he lost consciousness and slumped to the ground.

***

“Prongso! Good Lord! I say, Prongso! Get in here! That policeman chap has just swooned!”

“What?”

“Swooned, keeled over, whatever you-” Sirius broke off as a tall, handsome man with messy black hair and round glasses swept in, his rolled-up sleeves revealing tanned skin as he took his stethoscope from around his neck and knelt beside Lupin.

“You mean fainted?” the man said.

“Yes, yes! Quickly, you idiot! Is he alright? Is he dead? Does he need an injection?”

“Mamma mia, Padfoot! Will you shut up and move out of the damned way?”

“Stop talking and examine the poor man, damn it!”

“He’s alright, he has a pulse, and he’s breathing, just let me listen to his heart.”

Sirius Black sighed with relief, looking at Remus Lupin’s white face with an anxious frown.

“I didn’t do anything, I swear,” he said quietly, kneeling on the floor beside the other man.

“I know you didn’t. Nothing amiss there, heart sounds normal, no murmurs. His pulse is a bit shallow. Call Mary and ask her to bring up some tea and biscuits. I hope he’s not diabetic. He seems very thin. And get the First Aid box, there should be some smelling salts.”

Lord Grimmauld rang the bell forcefully before striding next door and grabbing the box. He popped his head over the bannister as Mary, one of the ladies’ maids, hurried up the stairs looking vaguely terrified.

“It’s alright, Mary, only me,” he grinned. “Spot of bother with the Detective. Could you do me a favour, and bring up some strong tea and cakes, the ones for Afternoon Tea?”

Relief swept over Mary MacDonald’s face and she smiled back warmly.

“Of course, Lord-“

“Mary! How many times do I have to tell you that there’s no need to-”

“Yes, Sir,” she said, running back down the stairs.

“Is he alright?” Sirius said, handing the smelling salts to the dark-haired man who had loosened the detective’s tie and had now started undoing his shirt buttons.

“Yes, blood pressure’s a bit low, but he should be fine.”

“Thank God for… hang on, what’s that?” he said, pointing to the detective’s neck.

Dr James Potter bent closer and pulled his shirt down.

***

The detective blinked and opened his eyes. He was lying on the floor, and a man was looming over him. He let out a strangled cry, and then kicked out forcefully to get away, sending the tall man flying backwards and knocking off his glasses.

“Fucking hell!” muttered Dr Potter, pinching his nose which was pumping blood. “It’s alright, don’t panic.”

He put his other hand in the air, as though to prove he meant him no harm. Remus tried to steady his breathing, his chest heaving up and down, his heart still hammering. He nodded, slowly reorienting himself to where he was. He felt mortified.

“He’s a doctor, you fool! Just because he’s foreign doesn’t mean he’s going to hurt you!” Sirius Black’s voice was livid as he stared down at Remus Lupin.

“Padron me?” Remus whispered, his breathing still erratic, his eyes flickering between the two men’s faces.

“I didn’t have you down as a damned racist bastard,” Sirius Black’s icy reply, as he grabbed a pullover from a nearby chair and gave it to his friend to use as a make-shift towel.

“I’m sorry, what do you… shit! Did I do that?” Remus said, pulling his shirt across his chest and looking at Dr Potter’s face.

“You did,” Dr Potter said.

“I’m terribly sorry, Sir, I have no idea what came over me, I have no recollection of how I found myself to be here and I…” Remus Lupin’s voice caught in his throat.

“It’s alright, minor soft tissue injury, I’m sure,” Dr Potter said with a weary sigh.

“I swear to you, this has nothing to do with where you come from, Mr…” Remus added, looking at Sirius Black.

“Really?” Sirius Black’s eyes flashed dangerously. “It better not, I-“

“Dr Potter,” said the dark-haired man, putting out his hand. “My family is Italian.”

Italian, Remus thought, a fascist too? Still, he hadn’t deserved a kick to the face.

“Potter is not an Italian name,” he said.

“Yes, my family moved here when I was five, and changed their name, from,” Dr. Potter said.

“Mr Lupin has no interest in a long story about your family’s antics, Prongso!” said Sirius.

“Oh. Right. Well, yes, quite,” said Dr Potter, ruffling his thick, black hair which looked somewhat out of control, and sticking up in all directions.

“Why did they…” Remus asked.

“Many reasons, not least the fact that people tend to be racist,” the dark- haired man said, with a vague shrug.

“Remus, Remus Lupin, Detective Inspector,” Remus said, taking the man’s hand and shaking it firmly. “I really am dreadfully sorry, Doctor.”

“It’s alright, don’t mention it,” Dr Potter smiled and pulled him up. “Now, you must eat and drink, and I shall run down to the kitchens to get some ice for my nose and check back in with you shortly. Padfoot, keep an eye on him for me, will you?”

Lord Grimmauld muttered an expletive under his breath and nodded.

***

“I need to get back to work, Lord Grimmauld,” Remus said, standing up rather quickly.

They had been sitting in awkward silence since the doctor had left, cold resentment emanating from the aristocrat, Remus wolfing down the admittedly delicious food as fast as humanly possible.

“Stop calling me Lord Grimmauld, I hate it,” the other man snapped. “And do what you’re told! Dr Potter clearly instructed you to stay here and wait until he-“

“Be quiet, Black!” said Remus.

Sirius Black flinched, as though he had been slapped.

“You can’t tell me what to do, Black, I’m not your skivvy. But I can tell you what to do, do you understand?” Remus continued quietly, leaning down so he towered over the Duke’s eldest son.

He watched as the man’s Adam’s apple moved and he swallowed hard.

“Make me,” Sirius Black said.

His grey eyes glittered, and a mischievous smile flickered across his face.

“Oh, fuck off,” Remus said, making a dismissive noise in his throat.

He walked away, still feeling a bit disorientated, holding onto the bannister as he stalked down the stairs. He was late, he still needed to interview half of the servants. He was vaguely horrified at how unprofessionally he had behaved with the Duke’s son. He put it down to hypoglycaemia. He hoped to God the man didn’t report him. Or that poor doctor. He could be in serious trouble. What the hell had come over him?

“Fuck!” he groaned to himself, closing his eyes shut for a moment in panic. Maybe he wasn’t fit to return to work yet. Maybe the incident with Greyback had ruined him.

He heard voices coming from the sitting room across the hall.

“I think I shall have to corner that stupid little man and tell him about poor old Cousin Sirius’ murky past. I was planning on telling him, until you so rudely interrupted me, Andy,” a voice laced with malice, which he immediately recognised as belonging to Lady Bellatrix.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Bella, that’s completely irrelevant,” an irritated, scathing tone.

“Oh really? Well, darling, I think we’ll leave it up to the dear Mr Lupin to decide what is and isn’t relevant. I know if I were an ugly Jew Filth *** I’d want to know that our handsome coz was expelled from Hogwarts for assaulting another pupil. Men of that sort are surely more prone to murder than most.”

“You’re such a rude bitch, Bella.”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“If you use that language about Mr. Lupin again, I’m punching you in the face.”

“I see. No attempt to defend your favourite coz though, Andy,” followed by a sneering laugh.

“Depends what you mean by men of his sort, if you mean homosexuals, then yes, I damn well-“

“Of course I do, we both know those disgusting freaks are-“ Bella’s voice was rising.

“Shut up, Bella! Someone will hear us!” a quieter tone.

“Oh shut up yourself, Cissa! Do you want me to mention the little mess that dearest Lucius has gotten himself involved in? Dear me, quite a pickle, as Andy would say, I’m sure that-“

The door flew open and Lady Narcissa burst through, nearly colliding with Remus. She glared at him dismissively, with no apology, and ran down the short flight of stairs to the main hall. She picked up a fashionable hat in the exact same shade of blue as her dress, carefully placed it on her head at an angle, and threw on a long coat.

“I am going out for a walk,” she informed Remus in clipped tones.

“Lady Narcissa, you may recall I have requested that you all wait here, I have not yet finished my-” began Remus, following her downstairs.

“I shall remain unavailable to speak with you until after my walk. Good day, Mister…” Narcissa said.

“Mr Lupin,” Remus said.

“Good day,” she repeated, obviously of the view that remembering his name was not a priority, and closing the imposing doors behind her.

These toffs had a perfect way of saying one thing, but making it clear they were telling you something entirely different, namely, to fuck away off.

He had made no progress on the case at all, Moody was going to be sorely disappointed in him, and all he could seem to focus on was the way Sirius Black’s soft hands had threaded through his hair as he lay on the floor. His beautiful face. His voice. It was inappropriate. He was a suspect in a murder case. Teenage aristocrats were notorious for engaging in all sorts of pranks in the best schools, he must have assaulted someone very seriously to have been expelled from Hogwarts. This man who was also without a doubt a blasted, fascist bastard. And was apparently gay.

“Get me the fuck out of here!” he muttered to himself in desperation.

***

Early the next morning, he awoke to the shrill sounds of his telephone. The only reason he had one was due to Moody’s insistence, after the incident with Greyback, his department had paid for it.

“Call for you, Sir, Chief Inspector Moody on the line from Police Headquarters.”

“Sir?” his hoarse voice full of sleep.

“Lupin, have some tea before I get there, or you’ll be in a foul mood. Duke of Grimmauld found murdered. Dagger sticking into his heart. I’ll be over in ten. I’m bringing Evans, from that Mulciber mess last year. Head Office is going barmy. Too many high-profile cases. Not enough men on the ground. Want me to focus on the recent spate of bank robberies. Bad publicity for the force. They’ve sanctioned her to join us. I'm putting you both on the case, best minds I know.”

**Notes**

A toff - a rich or upper-class person

* Real wording of anti-fascist poster from 1936

** The **Battle of Cable Street** was an event that took place in [Cable Street](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cable_Street) and [Whitechapel](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Whitechapel) in the [East End of London](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/East_End_of_London), on Sunday 4 October 1936. It was a clash between the [Metropolitan Police](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Metropolitan_Police), sent to protect a [march](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Demonstration_\(people\)) by members of the [British Union of Fascists](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/British_Union_of_Fascists)[[1]](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Cable_Street#cite_note-1) led by [Oswald Mosley](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oswald_Mosley), and various [anti-fascist](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anti-fascism) demonstrators, including local anarchist, communist, Jewish and socialist groups.[2]

*** Filth – slang term for Police

<https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Antisemitism_in_the_United_Kingdom#1930s>


	2. Little White Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lily Evans meets Detective Inspector Snape, unfortunately, and interviews Dr Potter, the investigation into the Duke of Grimmauld's death continues...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, thanks again to Purplechimera for essentially Beta-ing this fic and for the continuing support - you are exceptionally wonderful
> 
> Happy Birthday to Abby10, I hope you enjoy Jily in this chapter, and Remus too!! You are a joy to have in this fandom and I hope you have a wonderful day!

Chapter 2: Little White Lies

_The Moon was all aglow_

_But heaven was in your eyes_

_The night that you told me_

_Those little white lies_

Little White Lies (1930) – Walter Donaldson

“Feck that, Remus, they sound like awful gobshites*,” said Lily Evans, veering off the road and then over-adjusting, causing Remus’s hand to automatically brace against the side panel.

“You just trampled some of the Duchess’ chrysanthemums,” the Detective said, glancing behind as they pulled up rather suddenly in front of Slytherin House.

“I hope so,” Lily replied blithely.

She grinned at him via the rear-view mirror. He looked slightly nauseated.

“No cheekiness from you when we get in, Evans,” the Chief Inspector warned. “And drive slowly on the way back, will you?”

“Unlikely,” Lily Evans said, blowing a strand of auburn waves off her nose. “It’s my car, Chief, and I’m within the speed limit.”

Moody snorted.

“You know damn well there is no speed limit in the countryside, Evans,” he said, opening the passenger seat and standing up with difficulty.

“Like I said, Chief, I always stick to the rules,” Lily said, turning to grin at Remus, and applying a sweep of lipstick.

“Good to have you back, Evans,” said Remus, smiling back.

“Bet you missed me, Lupin,” she said.

“Just a bit,” Remus laughed.

“Snape still around?”

There was a hint of anxiety in her tone, despite the determined cheerfulness.

“Sadly,” he said.

Lily shivered and said nothing. It was difficult to put into words why being around Snape made her feel so uncomfortable. He had been overly polite to her when they had started working together on the Mulciber Case, trying to ingratiate himself - waiting for her, holding doors open, getting her tea, insisted on walking her out after work. How could she complain about that? Except it felt stifling, almost intimidating. She asked herself if she had imagined it, when she thought she saw him glare at any of the other men who tried to talk to her. Especially Remus, who she got on with the best. She didn’t like it. She tried to tell him. He had looked baffled and offended, and had made her feel guilty. And stupid.

_“I just don’t want you to get the wrong impression, Severus,” she had said, holding her bag in front of her defensively. “I never date people I work with.”_

_It was a lie. Her last boyfriend had been Davey Lampard, whom she had met when working with the Met in London._

_“I understand,” Severus had said, stiff, uptight._

_“Good,” she said, trying to smile back. “No hard feelings?”_

_“Of course not,” Severus said. “It’s a woman’s prerogative to change her mind.”_

_“Meaning what, exactly?”_

_“Meaning I am happy to work with you for the next few months.”_

_Did he mean he was still hoping to date her when she finished working for Moody’s team?_

_“And while we’re on the subject, Severus,” she said, cringing inwardly. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t touch my shoulder every time you walk past me, or every time we go through a door, or touch my back when I step into the car.”_

_He stared at her incredulously._

_“Excuse me?”_

_“Severus,” she said, feeling the tips of her cheeks reddening. “Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about!”_

_“I have no idea what you mean, Lily,” he said, looking at her with concern, worry almost._

_He did though. Why was he making her feel like she was being an idiot, pathetic, or…_

_“You know what, I, look, from now on, I don’t want you to touch me, alright?” she said, trying to keep her voice firm._

_“Of course, Lily,” he said, shaking his head lightly. “I would never want to make you feel uncomfortable.”_

_“Yes, well,” she said. “Good. I’m glad that’s settled then.”_

_“I think you need to relax a bit, Lily, take a day off. I don’t mean to tell you what to do, but I would caution against working full time on such taxing cases as these, as a woman. I hardly think that a colleague touching your elbow is anything to be concerned about, is it? I apologise, perhaps it’s just your time of the month, and your emotions are running a bit high, but-” Snape said, with another thin smile._

_“No thank you, Detective Inspector, I’m very well, now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do,” she replied, slamming the car door behind her._

_He was lucky she hadn’t kneed him. She needed the work._

_And after that, he had changed. Mostly, he hovered in her vicinity, more than before, always just beside her. Especially if Remus was around. She wanted to scream, to snap at him and tell him to feck right off. But what could she say, without sounding like a pathetic, neurotic woman? This was her first time working with Moody. It was rare to find women working as detectives. She couldn’t afford to look like an eejit. She would catch him, staring at her profile. Lift up her eyes for a break from her typewriter, or reviewing case notes, and see him looking straight at her, with his dark eyes. Watchful, waiting._

_After a while, the rest of Moody’s team didn’t approach her as much, with Snape looming beside her, like some avenging angel. All except Remus and Frank. She had liked Remus, fancied him, in fact, when they started on the case. They worked well together. She found his hoarse voice and self-effacing manner, and their shared sense of humour, very attractive. He seemed to like her too. She could tell. And she could tell that Snape hated it. Then quite suddenly Remus had been moved to work on the Greyback Case, around the time they had finally cracked Mulciber’s whereabouts and arrested him. She hadn’t spoken to him since. When she finished working for Moody, she slipped away, on purpose, without warning, and changed her car, asking Moody not to share her details with anyone in the force, for privacy reasons. He had hired her again, thank God._

“You alright?” Remus asked quietly.

She knew Snape hated Remus Lupin. She also knew something bad had happened to Remus during the Greyback case. But now wasn’t the time to ask.

“Absolutely. I was just hoping he’d met a tragic end. Was swallowed by a whale. Joined a travelling circus. That sort of thing. Never mind. Shall we?”

***

The Black family were gathered in the French Rococo dining room, around the imposing rectangular table. The curtains were partially drawn, casting dark shadows across the room, as though sunlight offended their aristocratic aesthetic. At the far end of the room, furthest away from the light, sat the Duchess, holding a lace handkerchief, occasionally dabbing her eyes. The young man seated beside her, immaculately turned out in a sophisticated black suit, was definitely her youngest son. He looked like he was still in school. He kept looking over at her, hesitant, as though unsure how to react. There was another dark-haired man, seated by himself, his chair pushed away from the table, on his mother’s right-hand side. He had the same dark hair, chiselled features, and unusual grey eyes. His profile was very attractive. The muscles around his shoulder and neck were tense. Occasionally his lower leg would move back and forth, followed by a sudden stillness. The three Black sisters sat together at the other side of the table. Narcissa Malfoy looked like she had been crying. Andromeda Black had her arm slung around her younger sister. Bellatrix Black seemed perfectly at ease, and unperturbed, the only one not in black; she was wearing a cheerful lemon-yellow dress.

“Your Grace, I’m very sorry to learn of your husband’s death,” Moody said, in his typical gruff voice.

“His murder,” Walburga Black corrected him.

“Yes. Rest assured we intend to catch his killer.”

“I should hope so,” she said, in an accusing tone, as though she held Moody personally responsible for her husband’s untimely demise.

“We shall need to obtain statements from you all. You must remain in the vicinity of this house for the time being,” Moody continued. “We are conducting an extensive search of the grounds for any potential clues, and our doctor is examining the Duke’s remains as we speak.”

He did not appear to be the least put-out by the Duchess’ tone.

***

“Your Grace, could you tell me everything that happened yesterday after I left? It must have been about six o’clock,” Remus said.

Walburga Black looked at her hands momentarily, before glancing back at him and giving him a curt nod.

“Nothing extraordinary,” she said, consulting her hands again. “My husband, my late husband, had a visit from Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa’s husband. A business meeting. It lasted roughly an hour. Then-“

“I believe Mr. Malfoy is experiencing some difficulties with his business, Your Grace?” Remus said.

Walburga’s eyes widened momentarily.

“How do you know this?”

“I ask questions, Your Grace, it’s my job,” Remus said, with a gracious smile.

Walburga sniffed. It could have been due to her recent crying, but Remus got the impression it was a sniff of disapproval.

“I’m afraid that I know nothing about financial issues, my husband deals- dealt- with all that,” Walburga said. “You would need to speak to Mr. Malfoy.”

“I see,” Remus said.

He was getting used to the drill now. Ask a question, brick wall, move on.

“Did your husband seem alright after the meeting with Mr. Malfoy?” Remus said.

“Not particularly,” Walburga said, glaring at him. “They argued.”

“Oh,” said Remus, making a note. “Do you know what the-“

“This has nothing to do with my husband’s death,” Walburga said. “Mr. Malfoy proposed a business deal, my husband rejected it, nothing more. Hardly a motive for murder.”

“We decide what is or isn’t relevant to the investigation, Your Grace,” said Remus, keeping his cool despite her dismissive tone. “They argued?”

“No raised voices,” Walburga said.

“I see,” Remus said. “Do you recall anything else that stands out?”

He was running out of words to replace the _for fuck’s sake answer, the damned question_ which was on the tip of his tongue.

Walburga moved her head minimally, which he guessed meant no.

“Your Grace, we will be talking to everyone, including all the servants, so if anything else _did_ occur, I would suggest you remember it now, and save yourself another interview later.”

He wasn’t imagining the way her jaw tightened.

“Nothing of consequence springs to mind,” she said, sticking her chin in the air.

He couldn’t help thinking she looked regal, a grieving queen, austere but beautiful. Very beautiful, in his opinion, which was a bit embarrassing.

“Did you have a good relationship with your husband?” Remus asked.

Walburga looked at him as though he had grown two heads.

“Were you close, did you get on?” Remus supplied, feeling the urge to scratch his chin again.

“Yes,” said Walburga, looking at him through her red-rimmed eyes. “Of course.”

He felt as though he had intruded unnecessarily into her grieving.

“Were you married long?” Remus said.

“Twenty-eight years,” Walburga said. “Engaged when I was nineteen, married at twenty-one. Celebrated our twenty-fifth Wedding Anniversary three years ago. Twenty-five bouquets of Iris and gold roses. And he gave me a George II silver coffee pot.”

She raised her eyebrows, as though she had just proved a point.

“Oh,” said Remus, unsure how he was meant to react to this piece of information.

“It was commissioned by John Lequesnie, Knight and director of the Bank of England, in 1738.”

“I see,” Remus said.

“Worth £100,000,” Walburga added, with a condescending smile.

Remus nearly fell off his dainty chair. Walburga smiled again and her gaze flickered to the ornate console underneath the huge gold-edged mirror. A little, pompous, silver coffee pot sat there.

_£100,000 for that?_

“Did anyone else recently row with your husband?” Remus asked.

“My husband had a… what some people would call difficult temperament,” Walburga said, after a pause. “He was very direct. We complemented each other. We never had a falling out. But his moods didn’t always go down well with others, especially with the staff here. You should talk to one of my maids, Mary Macdonald. And to one of the grooms, Benjy Fenwick. They were in his bad books recently. He threatened to fire them.”

She smiled at Remus again, brighter this time.

“Anyone else?” Remus said, making a note.

Walburga sighed, as though irritated by him.

“Bellatrix had a minor argument with him a few days ago, nothing important, asked him for a loan, he refused. I’m quite sure she would be happy to discuss it with you.”

“And Andromeda, Lady Andromeda,” said Remus. “She didn’t get on with your husband, I believe.”

It was a guess.

“No,” Walburga said, the veins on her temple visible once more. “Under their parents’ will, the Duke and Duchess of Gaunt, my nieces’ fortune was to be managed by my husband, until they married. Andromeda is the only one who is yet to marry. My husband refused to give her permission to marry a commoner, a dreadful little man. They had a terrible row.”

“Ted Tonks?” Remus said, making a note. “How long ago was that?”

“A year ago,” Walburga said. “She hasn’t forgiven him, they’ve hardly spoken since.”

“And who inherits your husband’s... who is the heir, Your Grace?”

Walburga hesitated.

“I believe my husband disinherited our eldest son,” she said.

“So, Lord Regulus becomes,” Remus said.

“I have not seen my husband’s will,” Walburga said. “But yes, that is what we believe to be the case.”

“Thank you,” Remus said.

He really needed to speak with Regulus Black.

***

“Dr Potter?” Lily said, extending her hand. “Lily Evans, consulting Private Investigator.”

“Lily,” Dr Potter seemed marginally shell shocked. “I mean, that is to say, it’s clearly not Lily, that’s you, what I mean is… James.”

Lily raised her right eyebrow.

“Potter, James, doctor,” the man said, clearing his throat.

“Dr James Potter,” Lily Evans said, motioning to the chair in front of her. “Sit down, please.”

The man blinked twice and ran a hand through his unruly black hair. He pushed his spectacles up his nose.

“Dr Potter, I haven’t got all day,” Lily Evans said, raising both her eyebrows quizzically.

“Yes,” the man said, his warm hazel eyes glued to hers.

Lily Evans did not suffer fools gladly, especially not while in the middle of a murder enquiry. Men had a tendency not to take her seriously in her line of work.

“Dr Potter, if you don’t sit down, and answer my questions, I shall be forced to bring you in for questioning to our local police station,” she said, with a bright smile. “Do I make myself clear?”

Dr Potter sat down immediately, practically falling off the chair in his haste. Lily tried to suppress a groan.

“Dr Potter, where were you yesterday evening?”

“Yesterday…” Dr Potter said.

“Yesterday,” Lily said, narrowing her eyes. “The day the Duke was murdered, in case you forgot.”

She wore what she thought was a professional looking outfit - a long, burgundy tweed, column skirt with a high waist and a cream, satin blouse with a large bow around the neck, over which she wore a matching burgundy waistcoat. She crossed her legs and tapped her lace-up Oxfords impatiently.

“I… what did you say? Oh yes, splendid. I was here. All day,” Dr Potter beamed at her.

“Splendid is not a word I would usually think of when referring to a murder,” she said.

“What? Good Lord, no!” Dr Potter said.

He had an infuriatingly attractive smile, the corners of his eyes crinkled good-humouredly when he laughed, and his forearms were annoying her. Although what infuriated her most was that having heard about yesterday’s interviews from Remus Lupin, she was sure this was another toff refusing to cooperate.

“Dr Potter, I think you may be under the misapprehension that being interviewed by a woman somehow means that-” Lily Evans’ tone was glacial.

“What? Don’t be ridiculous, Miss Evans, I don’t for one moment doubt your-” Dr Potter said, looking affronted.

“Don’t interrupt me, Dr Potter!” Lily’s voice rose. “I’m quite sure that-“

“I was merely trying to allay your fears, under no circumstances was I trying to-” Dr Potter said.

“You are clearly not taking me seriously,” Lily said, leaning forwards as though to show her complete lack of intimidation.

“Not true! You seem to have a propensity to wilfully misunderstand my intentions,” Dr Potter replied, calmly folding his arms.

She wanted to throttle the man. That sounded like a direct quote from Pride and Prejudice, which was very inconvenient. Firstly, because she had always had an affinity for Lizzy Bennett. Secondly, because Dr Potter was a rich, snobby type. And lastly, because she had always rather fancied Mr Darcy.

“Fine. Did you have a motive to kill the Duke of Grimmauld?”

“What?”

“I said, did you have motive to murder the Duke,” she said, speaking slowly.

“Yes, yes, I heard you,” Dr Potter said, slumping back on his chair.

It was anxiety which had crept into his face. It looked paler, although it was difficult to tell, as his complexion was darker than she was accustomed to.

“Dr Potter?” Lily said.

He seemed to be struggling to decide what to do. He ran a hand into his messy hair once more and sighed.

“I suppose you could say that.”

His voice no longer held that mischievous quality.

“Please do go on, Dr Potter,” Lily said, making herself more comfortable.

James Potter looked tense.

“My parents moved from Italy to England in 1922, when I was ten years old. My maternal grandfather was English, my mother spoke it fluently, and always with me, so I had no difficulty with the move, although I still miss the weather,” he said, with a rueful smile.

Lily smiled despite herself.

“Any particular reason for moving here?” she said.

“Not as far as I know,” Dr Potter said, clearing his throat. “I think they saw a business opportunity.”

“And?”

“They, er, they did that, set up a business, making and selling hair products. It became rather successful. You may have heard of it, Sleekeazy’s Hair Pomades?

“Sleekeazy’s? Who hasn’t heard of it?” Lily said, looking at him in astonishment.

“They bought a beautiful, run-down, seventeenth-century house, not far from here, and brought it back to life. Made lots of friends in the local area. They even managed to get me into Hogwarts, one of the most elite schools for boys in the whole country. Sirius’ father, who is on the Board of Management. Was. He got me in. I was very happy there, for most of my time. Full of snobby pricks, mind you, but that goes without saying. Sirius and I had a blast.”

“But?” Lily said.

“After a time, Orion expressed an interest in my parents’ company. Said he wanted to invest in it. They were reluctant at first, but Orion seemed like a perfect gentleman, they had no reason to mistrust him, and I think they felt indebted to him because of the whole school thing. Sirius didn’t talk much about his dad at the time, but I knew their relationship was strained, and he cautioned my parents against getting involved with him. Unfortunately…”

“Yes?”

The doctor stood up and walked to the window, his arm leaning against the window frame, looking outside at the view of the lake.

“Dr Potter?” Lily said.

“Eventually they agreed, and Orion had contracts drawn up by his solicitor. They… the solicitor they hired was crooked. I have no proof, but I’m willing to bet a large fortune that Orion paid him off. It was too late by the time they realised they had been tricked into selling the company to Orion, for a pittance. My parents were not in good health, Papa died of a heart attack two years later, after a number of unsuccessful attempts to challenge Orion in court. Mamma died shortly afterwards. We always felt she died of a broken heart.”

“And did you or your siblings…” Lily said.

She couldn’t help feeling sorry for him.

“Only child. Although they semi-adopted Sirius, I used to joke that they loved him more than they loved me, the bastard,” James said, with a fond look. “He used to spend all his free time in our house.”

“And what did you do, after your parents passed away?” Lily said.

“They died just after I finished school,” James said, looking out of the window again. “I always wanted to be a doctor. I was offered a place in St George's, University of London. I couldn’t afford the tuition fees. But I received a sum of money, placed anonymously into my bank account, that year. It allowed me to pay the fees, just about, and I worked in my spare time to cover the cost of lodgings and books and the likes. The same thing happened in August for the six years of medical school until I graduated.”

“Did you ever find out who paid for the fees?” Lily said.

“I suspected it might be Orion,” he said. “I asked him outright one year and he laughed, but he didn’t deny it, in fact, he more or less admitted to it. Perhaps he felt a tinge of guilt? I never understood it. Put me in a weird position. I both hated him and felt obligated to him.”

“Obligated to him?” Lily said, her emerald eyes flashing.

“I don’t know... yes, in a way? Indebted to him... I know it’s ridiculous, after everything he did to us, damned stupid. He always treated me with contempt, as he did everyone who wasn’t royalty. It didn’t bother me. But his snide comments about my parents blowing their fortune…”

“Excuse me, what?” said Lily, staring at him in shock.

“Oh yes,” Dr Potter gave a bitter laugh. “Always snuck that into the conversation, especially if there were other guests around. Something about the extravagant spending habits of New Money, or the stupidity of Italians, he even said that my father squandered his fortune on numerous affairs, in front of me.”

“Affairs?” Lily said.

“You never met my father, Miss Evans, but I can assure you, that man was head over heels in love with his wife from the first day he met her, and remained the same love-struck, sentimental old fool until the day he died!” Dr Potter said, with a sad smile. “It was the biggest load of codswallop I’ve ever heard.”

“Why did he,” Lily said.

“Because he was a bastard and wanted to upset me, I presume,” he said.

“Did it work?”

She watched the doctor clench and unclench his jaw.

“Yes and no.”

She stayed silent.

“He wanted me to hit him, I’m quite sure of it. Maybe he thought it would get me thrown out of medical school. I threw a glass of wine at him once instead. Red, so it would stain his favourite tie.”

The light from the large window was hitting his figure in all the right places, illuminating his strong jaw, his gold flecked eyes, the pull of his white shirt over his defined chest and biceps, the veins tracing his forearm and the back of his hands.

If Dr Potter’s story was to be believed, Orion Henri Black was the biggest weapon, and she would happily have punched him in the face herself.

“Dr Potter, do you blame Orion Black for your parents’ deaths?” Lily Evans said quietly.

“Yes. Yes, I do. I am quite certain they would both be still alive if it weren’t for him.”

The doctor’s eyes smouldered with passion.

“I understand,” she said. “Dr Potter, can you account for your whereabouts yesterday evening?”

His jaw clenched once more.

“After Mr Lupin left, we went for a ride for a few hours.”

“Where did you go?”

“Round the estate. The horses need regular exercising.”

“A few hours?”

“Yes. The grounds are… well, obnoxiously vast.”

Lily snorted despite herself and Dr Potter grinned at her with boyish charm. A vision of the doctor in riding breeches, his white shirtsleeves rolled up and the muscles of his arms flexing as he galloped into the sunset, manifested itself to her. She cleared her throat in irritation.

“Er, and afterwards?”

“I was here, talking with Sirius, all afternoon, until dinner. Dinner went on rather longer than usual.”

“Why?”

“They had guests, and Reggie, Sirius’ brother, arrived just in time for the meal.”

“Who else was there?”

“The usual suspects – the three Black sisters, the Duke and Duchess, Lucius Malfoy and Rodolphus Lestrange, Cissa and Bellatrix’s husbands.”

“Would you say the meal was cordial?”

James burst out laughing.

”Cordial?”

“What’s so funny?” said Lily.

“I don’t think I’ve had a relaxed, enjoyable meal here. Ever,” James Potter said. “If we’re all at dinner, Sirius, Andy and I will usually start off a brief conversation about something innocuous, determined to avoid a showdown. Bella, Cissa and Walburga then converse about something inane and eventually throw in a racist, bigoted, anti-semitic comment. Usually from Bella. Reg tries to steer the conversation away towards something neutral. Sirius hates when he does that, he tries extra-hard to infuriate them when Reg refuses to take our side. Bella then says something truly awful, quoting that Nazi fellow Hitler to boot. One of the three of us gets involved in a heated argument with her, until Orion shouts some obscenity at us, defending her. The poor servants always look scared stiff. The three of us feel sorry for them and shut up. The last time there was a huge argument at dinner, one of them dropped a serving plate, and Orion sent them packing.”

“Sacked?” said Lily, looking horrified.

“Yes, and with no pay, the bastard. Dinner usually ends with either Andy or Sirius storming off and Walburga, Bella and Cissa making snide comments under their breath. I have to say it’s one of my least favourite ways to pass the time. Puts me off my food completely, which is a pity, as the food is one of the only good things about this damned place, aside from Sirius and Andy.”

“Good cook?” Lily asked.

“The best. Anatole Alarie is a genius. They must pay him a fortune, I wouldn’t stay if you paid me in solid gold.”

He had mentioned fortunes a few times. Could he have killed Orion for stealing his, Lily wondered?

“So yesterday’s meal was your run-of-the-mill nightmare?” Lily said.

“Worse,” he said.

“In what way, Dr Potter?”

“Everyone was in a bad mood – Cissa and her husband, Bella and her husband, Andy, Reg, Orion… Walburga for once was trying to be diplomatic, I think even for her it was a bit too awkward!”

“Do you know why everyone was so cross?”

“Money, I’m sure,” he said. “It always comes down to money.”

“Lord Regulus though,” Lily said.

Dr Potter shrugged.

“Money. Orion is a tight bastard. I’d say Reg has to beg him every time he wants any spending money. Probably uses it to control him. As he does with Sirius.”

“Meaning?”

“Che ne so?” Dr Potter shrugged evasively.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m terribly sorry, I use Italian phrases with Sirius all the time. Means how should I know. I’m purely speculating, Miss Evans. Orion is- was- a very nasty man. I shouldn’t speak ill of him, now he’s dead, my mother would kill me, but as we say in Italy, in these circumstances – parlandone da vivo.”

Lily cocked her head to the side.

“It means, speaking of him as though he were alive.”

Lily rolled her eyes and tried not to smile.

“So that means you can bitch about him to your heart’s content?”

“Guilty,” said Dr Potter, also suppressing a smile.

“And after the evening meal?” Lily said.

“I went to Sirius’ sitting room, had some whiskey and hung around there for a few hours, before retiring to bed around midnight.”

_Sirius’ bloody sitting room… these rich gobshites._

“I presume the poor maids have to clean up your mess afterwards, bring all the empty glasses downstairs,” Lily said. “They must hate you lot.”

“Actually, I brought it down to the kitchens on my way to bed,” Dr Potter said, with a triumphant grin.

Annoyingly, she found it far too endearing.

“Did you notice anything unusual?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all.”

There was a knock on the door, two short raps.

“Come in,” Lily said.

“Miss Evans, I think the Chief Inspector wants a word, immediately, Miss,” said Mary Macdonald, looking flustered.

“Miss Evans, are you-” said Dr Potter.

“Oh, I’m finished, for the time being, thank you for your help, Dr Potter, I’ll see myself out,” she said.

“How do you do?” Dr Potter said, taking her hand and gripping it firmly.

She liked his hand, it was large and his grip was strong and he had calluses on the palm of his hand. She wondered how he got them.

“Er, lovely to meet you,” she said, feeling a faint blush on her cheeks.

“Goodbye, Miss Evans, good wishes to you and your esteemed colleague, Mr Lupin,” said Sirius Black.

He bowed politely in her direction and she smiled back.

“Well, goodbye, Mr Potter.”

“Arrivederci,” Dr Potter called out.

“Sorry?” said Lily.

“It means, until we meet again,” he said.

His hazel eyes reminded her of her grandparent’s house in Connemara, in the sitting room, flames reflecting off a bronze lintel. There was something about an open fire that spoke to her of belonging, of home. _Until we meet again._

She smiled.

***

“Are you alright, Padfoot?”

“Yes. Fine.”

“I doubt it.”

“I don’t want to discuss it.”

“No, alright. I’m here if you change your mind though. He was still your father.”

“James?”

“Huh?”

“You like her, don’t you?”

“What? No!”

“Ha!”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I hate you.”

“I know.”

“So what if I do? She’s highly intelligent, a bit scary, and incredibly attractive. Why wouldn’t I like her? It’s not like I’m going to ask her out, or anything.”

"Oh, what _is_ the matter with you? Are you still moping over that same girl? Why, the world is just full of girls," said Sirius Black, affecting the clipped tones and strange accent typical of Hollywood movies.

"I know, I know, but not like her. She's music. She's the buzzing of the bees in clover. She's the rustle of the leaves in the trees. She's water lapping on the shore,” answered James, doing a more dramatic version of said accent.

"Uh-huh. Yes. She sounds like a series of strange noises to me. Well, cheer up, Prongso, cheer up. You may chance across her again some time."

"I know I will. And when I do, it won't be chance. Chance is the fool's name for fate."

“Oh, Monty would love this!” Sirius Black said, his laughter carrying down the corridor.

There was the sound of something large hitting a body and Lord Grimmauld yelping, then retaliating. Severus Snape’s face was unreadable as he continued to listen from behind the door.

***

“I was looking for you,” Severus Snape said, appearing behind her unannounced.

“Bleedin’ hell, Severus! You gave me a heart-attack,” said Lily Evans, unable to keep the irritation from her tone. “I didn’t know you were coming today.”

“I was asked to assist,” he said, placing his hands behind his back.

He looked rather how she imagined a strict, and mean, Headmaster in a boy’s school. It was also impossible to age him. He was standing too near her, again, and she moved back and frowned, folding her arms.

“I see you just finished interviewing Dr Potter,” he added, in what she was sure was meant to be a casual, conversational tone, yet somehow sounded strangely threatening.

“I did,” she said, pursing her lips, and standing taller. “He seemed like a nice man.”

Severus laughed. It was one of the things she most disliked about him – that disdainful, superior, condescending, patronising laugh.

“You have a problem with him, do you?” Lily said.

“Well, I suppose I should keep this to myself, I would usually be loath to repeat back anything offensive to a lady, but in this case,” he said stiffly.

“What are you trying to say, Snape?”

“I feel I should say it, in case he makes a pass at you, or tries something inappropriate, you might want a chaperone.”

“Detective Inspector Snape, I swear to God, if you don’t fecking well,” said Lily, losing her temper.

“He said you were a delight, quite saucy, that you looked like you had loose morals, and he would love to get you into bed, adding something about Irish girls only being appropriate as scullery maids, and one would never consider anything serious with such girls, one just uses and dumps them. Lord Grimmauld seemed to find it all rather hilarious, they were laughing about it, about you, for quite some time.”

She didn’t like the gleam in his eye, as though he had somehow enjoyed saying it to her face. Her cheeks flushed bright red. Why did she feel like crying, it was stupid, and why should she care what some bastard fella thought about her?

“I see,” she said.

“Yes, I thought you’d want to know,” Snape said. “Of course, I don’t doubt you remained wholly professional during your interview with Dr Potter, but if you inadvertently gave him the impression that…”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m simply advising that it might be better if I join you in interviewing,” Snape said.

“No.”

“Pardon me?”

“I said no, Detective Inspector.”

“Miss Evans, I beg to-“

“I’m well able to handle myself, Snape. And as for Dr Potter, he might be interested to hear that I wouldn’t go near him, not if it was a choice between him and The Giant Squid,” she said.

“The giant squid?” Severus Snape said.

“Nickname for a great big ugly fella who used live down the road from us, when I was a young one,” she said, putting her maroon beret on and marching past Snape so quickly he had to flatten himself against the wall to stop himself being run over.

“Where are you going?” he asked, hurrying after her.

“Stay away from me, I’m in no mood to talk to men, of any kind, ye hear? And that includes you!” she said, without bothering to turn. “Gobshites, the lot of you!”

She could hear his footsteps faltering and slowing down.

“Miss Evans, your behaviour is most-” Snape said.

“I don’t care what you think, nobody asked you, and I don’t want to hear it,” she said, biting her lower lip so nobody could see it tremble. ”And by the way, what I get up to in my own time is nobody else’s business.”

She still needed to interview about five more people, but first, she needed to curse loudly, and colourfully, and clear her head. She ran down the stairs to the grand entrance.

“I say, Miss Evans, I was wondering…”

She whirled around and saw him coming down the stairs two at a time, smiling his charming smile.

“Oh, Dr Tosser Potter,” she said.

He stopped.

“I beg your pardon?” he said, looking confused.

He wasn’t stupid, he read that she was mad at him. She should remain calm. She was a terrible Private Investigator. Remus would be appalled.

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand what-” he said, running his hand through his wild and annoyingly attractive hair.

“I’m referring to your charming little chat, about me, with Mr. Black.”

“Oh yes?” Dr Potter said, looking slightly embarrassed.

“Yes!”

“I, uh, well, I hope you didn’t take it the wrong way, I-” Dr Potter winced.

“Oh, believe you me, I took it precisely as it was intended,” she said.

If looks could kill, she was sure he’d have spontaneously combusted by now.

“Oh, well, in that case, I can explain,” Dr Potter began.

“I have no interest in continuing this conversation, Dr Potter, not after your incredibly rude-” she started.

“Rude?” he interrupted, looking confused. “I’m sorry if you thought it was rude, you weren’t meant to hear, and I-”

Without another word, she walked off in the opposite direction, head held high.

“I say, Evans,” he said.

 **“** Mallacht mo chait ort!” she said spat out, unable to restrain herself.

“That’s very rude of you, Miss Evans!” Dr Potter called out after her.

“Oh really, are you a fluent Irish speaker now, Potter?” Lily whirled around, hands on her hips.

“Call me old-fashioned, but I find it frightfully rude to be cursed at in a language one doesn’t understand, leaving one with no chance of one-upmanship,” Dr Potter said.

“Please,” Lily snorted derisively. “There’s not much chance of that happening, in any language.”

“And if you must know, it means _my cat’s curse upon you,_ ” she added.

His eyebrows shot up, and she could have sworn he was trying not to laugh.

“I see, how terribly…” Dr Potter said, waving the textbook in his hand.

“She’s a tabby, huge claws, size of a small tiger, likes to jump at people she doesn’t fancy the look of, aims for their crotches.”

The dark-haired man ran a hand through his hair again, and his eyebrows disappeared under it, the book he had been holding in his other hand moved protectively in front of said area.

“You were saying?” she said, raising an arched brow and folding her arms expectantly.

She heard him clear his throat.

“Good day, Potter.”

“Good day, Evans.”

She marched out of the front door and felt a moment of satisfaction as the door slammed shut behind her.

“Ugh! Insufferable man!” she said, to nobody in particular.

***

Why did Severus Snape have to join this investigation? Hadn’t Moody said he would keep him off the case, Remus thought, groaning inwardly as the other Detective walked over to him.

“Lupin.”

“Snape.”

“I believe you’re just going in to interview Lord Grimmauld?”

“I am.”

“Moody wants me to join you.”

_What the fuck?_

“Why?”

Snape’s cold eyes glimmered momentarily.

“You tell me. Perhaps he thinks you’re not fully capable of managing a case on your own. After all, you were off on sick leave for an inordinate amount of time, rather longer than strictly necessary, shall we say.”

As though watching a cinema screen, vivid images flashed in front of his eyes. A small dark room. A locked door. A man walking towards him with a knife. Pain. The same song, playing in the background, incessantly.

_Blue Moon, you saw me standing alone_

_Without a dream in my heart_

_Without a love of my own_

His heart was hammering painfully against his chest.

“I came back to work as soon as I got the all-clear from the Hospital. Moody knows that.”

“Whatever you say, Lupin. I’m sure you did your best. Under the circumstances.”

“What circumstances?” he asked, his hoarse voice sounding more tired than usual.

“For someone like you. Let’s not cause a scene, shall we, Lupin?” Snape replied. “Wouldn’t want the Chief to ask the Loony Doctor to review you again, now would we?”

He sounded unusually confident. Remus looked up and noted Bellatrix Lestrange, a striking figure in a lemon, walking down the corridor towards them. She was smiling.

“Lady Bellatrix,” Snape said, with a bow, moving to let her through.

She nodded back, almost knowingly. As she walked past Remus, she paused, looking him straight in the eyes.

“Scum.”

He blinked twice.

“Excuse me?” he said.

“Excuse me,” she said, in a mocking tone.

She turned and looked at Snape.

“Good day,” she said.

Then she laughed, the kind of laugh that suggested she had just been highly entertained.

The other detective smiled.

“Good day, My Lady,” Snape said.

Remus stared after her.

“What’s the matter?” Snape asked.

“Did she, did she just call me…” Remus’ stopped.

“She said excuse me. What on earth did you think she said?”

He couldn’t ask Snape to confirm what had just happened, because he didn’t trust Snape. Had he just misheard her? Imagined it? Should he tell Moody? Would he think him unwell too?

“Let’s interview this Lord Grimmauld, shall we?” Severus Snape said to Remus, in an unpleasant tone.

***

“Lord Grimmauld, this is Detective Inspector Snape,” Remus said. “He is joining me for this interview.”

Sirius Black remained seated, his chair positioned towards the window. He was wearing a black, three-piece suit and looking distinctly uncomfortable. Remus noted his tie had wire-haired fox terriers on it. He liked it. Black looked Snape up and down, out of the corner of his eye, then glanced at Remus.

“Why is he here?” he drawled, leaning back in his chair, and ignoring Snape’s outstretched hand. “I don’t like him.”

A spike of warmth flitted across Remus Lupin’s chest.

“I have no idea,” Remus replied, on impulse, too tired, or too honest, to come up with a credible excuse.

Amusement flickered across the man’s face.

“Bad luck, old chap,” Lord Grimmauld said, loosening his tie.

Remus had the sudden urge to laugh.

“Sit down, please, D.I. Snape,” Remus said. “Lord Grimmauld, my condolences on the death of your father.”

Lord Grimmauld looked up at him and Remus could see the side of his jaw twitching.

“Yes,” he said, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Excuse me,” Snape, who had yet to sit down, moved toward the window and drew the curtains right back.

Light flooded the room immediately. Lord Grimmauld averted his eyes from the midday sun.

“That’s better,” muttered Snape, sending the aristocrat a victorious look.

“Snape,” said Remus, screening his eyes with his hand. “What are you…”

In the bright sunlight, there was no mistaking the red, raised mark across Sirius Black’s left cheek. The beginnings of purple discolouration, with three parallel linear bruises at finger-width spacing and a cut just over the cheekbone.

“Lord Grimmauld, what happened to your face?” he said.

Reluctantly, the man turned. Remus prided himself on being able to read subtle facial expressions. He knew most people didn’t seem to have this ability, but when interviewing suspects, sometimes he could catch a split second of true emotions, followed by what he termed a false emotional reaction**. Shame or embarrassment flickered for the tiniest moment, before being replaced by an emotion he recognised from his previous interactions with the Duke’s eldest son – defiance.

_**Notes** _

*Gobshite - A word of [Irish](https://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=irish) [origin](https://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=origin), meaning a person who talks rubbish.

**Micro expressions - are facial expressions that occur within a fraction of a second. It is the innate result of a voluntary (fake) and an involuntary (real) emotional response occurring almost simultaneously and conflicting with one another. Unlike regular facial expressions it is either very difficult or virtually impossible to hide microexpression reactions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter - more Lord Grimmauld stuff, we meet Regulus Black etc, and find out more vitally important information
> 
> Any feedback, please leave a comment, it makes me so happy and motivated xxx

**Author's Note:**

> Special Thank you to Purplechimera for offering to be a sensitivity reader for Jewish representation in this fic, that's exceptionally kind of you.
> 
> Comments make my day, any feedback very welcome!!
> 
> P.S. Any TERFs can fuck off, I do not support JKR's ideas.


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